


Taking the edge off

by lightningwaltz



Category: Collar x Malice (Visual Novel)
Genre: Biting, Clothed Sex, Competence Kink, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Slight Canon Divergence, Smut Swap Treat, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-11-21 07:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18139199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningwaltz/pseuds/lightningwaltz
Summary: Hi HannaM! Your prompts for these two just... really spoke to me, hahaha. I hope you enjoy!





	Taking the edge off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HannaM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaM/gifts).



> Hi HannaM! Your prompts for these two just... really spoke to me, hahaha. I hope you enjoy!

The alcohol isn’t exactly working.

Despite putting away more than his fair share of drinks, Sasazuka’s vision is only a tiny bit hazy. Things would be different if he stood up and moved around. He’d get that weird sensation like his brain is merrily sloshing around in his skull. It would probably feel like he was gliding through cotton. He might even laugh, but it wouldn’t be a _happy_ laugh. Alcohol can be an accelerant, and right now it’s just adding fuel to his doubts and shaky convictions.

So instead of melting into the drink, Sasazula’s immobile on the edge of his bed. Ichika’s braid seems to be the only thing he can focus on. The loose patterns of it, the poorly defined way all those strands crisscross together and still manage to hold shape. 

Otherwise, his heart seems to have detached its nest of veins and arteries, and now it’s pounding away at the back of Sasazuka’s throat. Not that that’s anything new. He wonders if Ichika can hear it. If so that might help explain why she neglects her drink. Her knuckles are white as she maintains a death-grip on her can of her beer. This makes him think of how he grabbed her by the throat when they first met. This, in turn, leads to him imagining Ichika doing the exact same thing to him.

At least his heart would stop making a racket.

“Hey.” He knocks his foot against hers, but she doesn’t even flinch. “Hey, you’re drinking. We’re drinking. Remember? I keep having to remind you.”

“I’ve had a lot already.” 

It’s funny to see Ichika’s face burning from something other than embarrassment. She tends to blush instantaneously whenever Sasazuka catches her off guard. It really is one of the most captivating things about her. Tonight alcohol has led to it slowly turning deeper shades of pink with each passing minute. It was kind of like watching a sunset. Not that he could remember the last time he’d actually taken time to _notice_ a sunset. Nightfall always seemed to be a thing that caught him by surprise whenever he glanced away from his keyboard. He’d long since lost track of how it felt to divide twenty-four hours into reasonable slices of work, sleep, and leisure.

“I’ve been counting how much you’ve had.” He hasn’t been, actually. “I’ve had way more than you.” Sasazuka was sure of this, though.

Ichika looks at him, and then slowly puts her half-finished drink on a nearby table. She flexes her hand, and then shakes it out. Sasazuka wants to grab it and… do what, exactly?

“I’m, uh. Hm.” Ichika holds her thumb and index finger up until they nearly touch. “I’m this close to being a sad drunk. Right now I’m in that pleasantly buzzed stage. Do you want me to crawl on top of you and cry?”

“Ew, no.” That response had been reflexive more than anything else. The kind of response he might have given Enomoto. Then the idea of her being on top of him really kicks in. He’s too warm with alcohol to feel his own blushing, but he’s definitely doing it. Goddamn it.

Then Ichika does what she threatened to do. She sits half in his lap, half out of it. She cups the sides of his face and he half expects her to yank them away like she’s been burned. Instead she sighs, and then leans her forehead against his as thought gravity is too much for her. 

“There’s so much on your mind.” Ichika says before Sasazuka can recalibrate in response to _any_ of this. “I can tell.” 

“It can be hard to… hard to talk.” Sasazuka manages to get this out. He’s too embarrassed to be proud of that Herculean effort.

“I understand. I think. But I care about you so maybe I really will cry after all.”

Ichika kisses him instead. She gasps, like _she’s_ the one who just got surprised. And maybe she is, in a way. Thanks to muscle memory, Sasazuka slips his tongue into her mouth, and she presses back against him. Ichika … tastes overwhelmingly like beer, right now. Not that he really minds. The longer they do this the more he can taste her inherent sweetness. 

Sasazuka’s thoughts are still sliding around. It’s almost like they’re wobbling on ice. When he gets them to sit still, he notices that Ichika’s kisses sting. This isn’t a coy, hesitant sort of action. One of his hands is on her back. The other slowly slides up the side of her body, distantly noting the shape of her thigh, her hip bone, her abdomen, her shoulder. When he reaches the collar it’s like someone threw ice water over both of them. 

She pulls back and for a while they just stare at each other. Sasazuka has to assume that’s the end of all this, and he hardly blames her for it. 

But then, shaking a little, Ichika reaches for her phone. Soon enough, Sasazuka’s cell dings in his pocket. He fishes it out with his free hand.

- **Ichika Hoshino:** _Remember when you thought I was sexting you before? I’m doing that now_ -

It’s all so surreal that Sasazuka cracks up, even though the edges of his world are going more than a little gray. This is deeply annoying, and electrifying, and a whole heap of _what the fuck Ichika?_

- **Takeru Sasazuka:** _I thought that was a booty call, not a sext._ -

- **Ichika Hoshino:** _Maybe I want to sext_ -

She lets out a sharp sort of giggle as soon as he sees her message. At least he’s not the only one scrambling, and boiling to death from the awkwardness. 

- **Takeru Sasazuka:** _No way. Auto-correct would kill the mood._

Ichika buries her face in his neck, her laughter soaking into his skin. “I guess we should do the other thing, then.”

“Hey.” He taps the top of her head. “Look at me.” When she does, he makes a circle with one hand, and sticks his other index finger through it. Judging by the sound Ichika makes it’s a universal symbol rather than purely American. “You meant _that_?” 

How was this happening? _How was this happening?_

She’s still laughing, which leads to hiccups. Sasazuka can tell she’s holding her breath to drive them away, so he finds himself drawing comforting circles on her back.

And then Ichika seems to settle into herself. There’s a certain set to her chin that she only gets when she makes important decisions. Ichika nods. “I did. I do.”

Alright then. 

Sasazuka has to reach around her to get to his computer. Navigating to his music is way more difficult than it should be, since his hands are trembling. Then it takes a little while longer to find a playlist that he knows won’t have any songs in it that aren’t associated with stupid memes. This is a more difficult task than it should be because Sasazuka hasn’t exactly been dating all that much. He manages it eventually, though, turning the audio up so loud he’s probably going to anger his neighbors and frustrate Adonis. 

Ichika settles more decisively into his lap, and they kiss for a while longer. His hands begin wandering under her clothes. For a few seconds he’s frustrated by the unforgiving material of her shirt, and underwire of her bra. But then he undoes a few buttons, she performs some odd slight-of-hand that he couldn’t quite catch, and the bra is loose around her. He caresses her breasts a while, trying to make sense of the fact that her nipples are hardening because of his actions. He wants to hear her better, but the music is muffling every noise she makes. In frustration, he gets her to sit up straighter, while he bends down to suck on one of her nipples. He can feel her gasp, even if the sound of it is lost. 

He ends up grabbing onto her hips and gently deposits her onto the bed. 

“I wish I could listen to you,” he says against her ear. The action is a necessity, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the way she shivers in response. 

“The music is loud, and I am going to be quiet. Sorry,” She replies, not sounding all that apologetic. 

“Challenge accepted. 

Sasazuka trails his hand up her thigh, lifting up her skirt. He pushes his hand down into her underwear, and watches her reaction as he circles her clit. Ichika is biting down on her lower lip, turning it white. He half expects to see blood trickling down her chin. Her chest is heaving from short, shallow breaths. Ichika presses back against him, her face wonderfully resolute. Sasazuka realizes he’d be more than content with watching her get herself off on his own hand. That and nothing else.

That determined expression vanishes as he finally presses against her clit. Her back arches and her head sinks down into the pillow. There are things Sasazuka can’t quite bring himself to say. They can’t escape his lust, or conflicted thoughts, or the way the music envelopes them in a pulsating bass. He finds other ways to express his emotions though, though. Namely by undoing the top few buttons on Ichika’s shirt and scraping his teeth against her skin. He sucks until he leaves purplish marks on the lower part of her throat, all the while thinking about how the collar necessitates hiding this part of the body from the world.

Such a shame.

Ichika’s thinking something like that too. “I want this collar off.” She speaks this out loud, yells it, practically. Almost certainly directly speaking to Adonis. She also undoes the button on his pants. “I have a feeling you have some ideas on how to get it off.” She murmurs this, so low he can barely hear her.

“Yeah, I have some ideas.” Sasazuka says, sliding her underwear down and away. “About how to get… a whole lot of things off.”

Now that she’s introduced the topic, though, he wants to explain it. Sasazuka maneuvers things so that they’re both resting on their sides, with him behind her. For whatever reason it’s even easier to stroke her clit from this position. He does so slowly, languorously, sucking on her ear for a while. She seems to enjoy that well enough, but she likes it even better when he starts to explain his theories about the collar. He explains how it probably functions, what he knows about it, what he still has to learn in order to remove it. It’s a puzzle he has yet to unlock, and the failure seems more acute with each passing hour. The longer he speaks, the wetter Ichika becomes. It’s hard to feel like a failure after that.

“You have strange interests, cat.” Sasazuka says this casually, like it’s just another tangent in his lecture. Like he’s not dying to be inside her right about now.

Ichika kind of shrugs, before tracing the bruises he’s left on her throat. Then she looks back at him. For a moment Sasazuka feels more exposed than if he was actually naked. He hurries to push his pants and underwear down as far as needed, while Ichika hikes her skirt up so that it bunches around her hips.

 _Ah, yes_ , he thinks, as he pushes into Ichika. _Yes_. This is what he’d needed all along; Ichika’s warmth all around him, demolishing all the sharp edges of his day, his month, his life. Her leg lifts up and presses down into the side of his thigh. One of her hands crushes his in a death grip. Sasazuka doesn’t have to hear it to know she’s moaning. He kisses the back of her neck again and again, licking her perspiration off his lips.

They rock together so, so slowly. Sometimes one or the other will start to laugh giddily and they’ll have to stop and kiss for a few moments. These constant interruptions should be annoying, but Sasazuk has to admit he kind of likes them. He’ll take any chance he can to prolong this.

And so, when Ichika is clenching and shaking around his cock he removes his hand from her clit. She glances back to glare at him, but allows herself to be drawn into another kiss. When he tugs at her nipple, Ichika actually bites down on his lower lip. Sasazuka thrusts into her hard before regaining his composure.

They’re still kissing when Sasazuka hand drifts down between her legs again. They’re still kissing when he allows her to come. Ichika is obviously whimpering against Sasazuka’s lips. He greedily consumes every muted sound. Sasazuka has to start mentally reciting the digits of pi (of all pedestrian things) to not follow her along in to bliss.

He can’t, because he has a plan. And that plan involves not letting her rest right away. It involves moving his finger purpose with against her clit. It involves thrusting his cock inside her just so. It involves building her up a second time before she’s had a chance to calm down.

“What are you-” Ichika’s voice wavers and she bites down on her knuckles.

“What do you think I’m doing, cat?”

Sasazuka wants to wring her dry (fully aware that that metaphor doesn’t really work when she’s so slick around him.) He wants to leave her content and sleepy and completely spent. Adonis might have put a collar on Ichika, but that didn’t make them hers. Sasazuka’s the one making her come again, and again, and again. No one else.

His own orgasm takes him by surprise. It happens a few seconds after getting Ichika off once more. He has to bury his face in her shoulder, breathing her name out against her bruised skin. Sasazuka pours all the affection he can into that sound before he reaches over to turn the music off. 

The abrupt silence is a gut punch, but he does get a chance to hear her heavy breathing. Sasazuka pulls her even closer. Then she turns in his arms. He has to close his eyes in order to process (or _not_ process) everything that just happened. He drifts off to the sensation of Ichika combing her fingers through his hair. 

The both wake up a couple hours later. Judging by the way Ichika is squirming she’s probably been awake for longer. 

“Oh, sorry.” He loosens his grip on her. 

“It’s not that. I’m just thirsty.” 

Sasazuka is completely sober. He can tell by the way he scrutinizes Ichika’s face for any sign of unhappiness. Sasazuka doesn’t find anything like that, fortunately, but he does notice that she’s still in her disheveled work clothes. 

“I feel like I should iron those for you.” Sasazuka is fully aware that he’s babbling, when he hands her a cup of water. “It’s kind of my fault that they’re like that.”

Ichika gulps the drink down. “I mean… we were both participants.” She says as she sets the glass down.

“Right. True.” Sasazuka gets up, and rummages around in his dresser until he finds an acceptable t-shirt. “Here, you can wear this for the next few hours. It should be more comfortable.”

Despite everything that just happened, Sasazuka is still surprised when Ichika peels away her remaining clothing. For a while she stares at him, fully naked except for the collar around her neck. Then she pulls the shirt over her head and beckons him back into bed. When he complies, she settles into his arm with a shockingly content sounding sigh.

There are only a few hours left before she had to be back at work, and Sasazuka briefly considers apologizing for disrupting her sleep.

“You look like you’re going to start purring any moment. You know that right?” That’s what he says instead.

Ichika promptly starts making a horrible guttural noise that sounds nothing like a cat.

“That was horrible. Never do that again.”

“Fine, fine.” Ichika kisses him instead.


End file.
